Marvel: 2010-07-12 - Pick Pockets
Lower Manhattan Walking down the street, eyes sharp and looking for a mark, Sasha strolls down the street with attitude. Most people either pass her by and don't even acknowledge her, others briefly glance at her and decide the attitude isn't worth their time to give her much beyond a cursary glance. Simone is strolling down the side walk like plenty of others. She seems a bit preoccupied, and like most isn't paying full attention to her surroundings. She's got a shopping bag in hand and she's wearing a painted up denim jacket as she saunters on. Is she a good mark? Perhaps, then again how many people that young have long white hair? And, that's one of Simone's better points. She doesn't discriminate who she hits, freakjob, or normalized jerkwad. And while Simone's white hair makes her stand out, it's the shopping bag that catches Sasha's eye. She plans it nearly perfectly, turning around one moment, pausing, then turns right around again to collide with Simone, head on. Fingers swiftly move to snatch whatever it looked like Simone had in her pocket. Hopefully some cash to get dinner with. Now while Simone might not be a pick pocket, she lived with a bunch of them. She's learned that the 'bump' is often a way people steal away wallets and other things. She oofs softly as the other girl runs into her and then instinctively checks her pocket. The wallet has been nabbed! A frown swiftly moves into her features as she steps after the girl. "I need that back." she says, not shouting. Causing a scene is not her intention. Sasha is already a few steps ahead, after her, "'Scuse me." As Simone makes her request, if Sasha hears her, she pretends not to. And, simply keeps on moving forwards at an even, unhurried sort of pace. The palmed wallet is tucked neatly into her own front pocket, meanwhile. Simone sighs and rolls her golden eyes as she steps up her pace so she can catch up. The girl looks human but that doesn't mean anything and she's not about to assume she can't defend herself. "If you need money then fine, you can keep what I've got but I need the wallet back.. " she says again trying to get in side by side with the other. Sasha looks towards Simone, wondering whether she wants to play the affronted victim or not of a false accusation. Hard eyes regard the white-haired woman for a long moment, before she smirks. The wallet is removed from her pocket and she removes the contents of cash, "Here," she says, handing the wallet, and credit cards and IDs back without even glancing at them. The cash is quickly and effortlessly pocketed. Simone takes the wallet back and stuffs it back into her pocket. There wasn't much cash in there fortunately for Simone, only about $25.00. "I'm not going to ask you why, but there are better ways to make a living. " Sasha gives the woman a slightly derisive sort of look, "You're right. Wanna buy the Brooklyn Bridge?" She queries, with a smirk, folding her arms in defensive posture. Simone has been in the city for a bit of shopping with a few of the other staffers from the school. They've divided up, having different errands to achieve. Currently Simone is wandering down the sidewalk next to Sasha. The girl had the bad luck of trying to pick pocket Simone and the art teacher called her on it. She's allowed Sasha to keep the money but has convinced her to return the wallet with the other bits within it. The things that really matter like photos and all those IDs and cards. She smiles lightly at the girl's sarcastic response. "No, but I can give you the address to some shelters I stayed at before.. they are good places, won't pester you about scripture if you aren't interested, and can help you find a good job.. one that won't land you into trouble." Here comes the eyeroll. Sasha snorts, and just shakes her head, "Right. I don't need no shelters, lady. And I got a job. Palmin' cash out of people like you." She doesn't look, or sound, the least apologetic. Nor does she seem as if she's inclined to even consider giving the money back. One hand is shoved into her other pocket, and she pulls out a small glass marble. Hank McCoy had came to the city with the other faculty. He had the choice of trying to hide himself in big hats trench coats and the like. But that would just draw attention to himself. So he's embraced himself as a mutant. As soon as they arrived Hank took to the roof tops and had been bounding across the city. There was a visit at the Apple Store for a new Ipad. Then there was the surprised look on the hotdog vendor's face. Now he was tracking Simone down and with his new purchases over his shoulder in a back pack." There's the soft sound as he lands next to both of the lovely ladies, "Seems somebody is taking Oscar Wilde to the extreme." Yet another tough nut to crack it seems. The world is full of them of course. "That isn't a job.. that's just survival, and you know it." she says, trying to be frank without being rude. "Some how I doubt you wanted to be a pick pocket when you were littl-- Eepp! " she jumps a little when Hank abruptly appears. A tiny down feather escapes from her jacket and lands on the ground. ".. Hank..." she smirks shaking her head. Immediately, Sasha's eyes slide to Hank, and almost immediately thereafter, she smirks anew. "Oh, great," she proclaims. "Another hairy freakjob. City is crawling with them." The difference between her saying this and someone else, is there's no real animosity, or hate in her voice. No scorn, for the mutant-kind. Instead, she's saying as one might say 'Those whackjob nutcases', or 'Those idiot gangster-wannabes', or any other assimilation of a group that she found irritating, or just didn't want to be around too much. "There a club or something around here, I ain't aware of?" She adds, sidelong towards Beast, "Who the hell is Oscar Wilde?" Hank goes to walking on his hands as one of feet points at him mouthing the words, 'Hairy freakjob, Moi?' Then he does a cartwheel. "I guess so, but I thought I was one of a kind. Kinda disappointing to learn their are others." He says looking at the ladies, "Well Oscar Wilde was a 19th century poet and playwright. He said among other things, "We're all in the Gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." Simone smirks as Hank begins to joke about. There must be something about blue fur that makes them do that. She briefly covers her smile and then looks back to Sasha. "I rather like stars, especially when seen from above the clouds.. but anyway.. you really should give the shelters a look.. this might get you through today, even a few years.. but this isn't a life. There wasn't a day when I was out here that I didn't dream of getting out." Unfortunately for Beast (and, Simone) Sasha doesn't seem to find Beast's antics all that amusing. "Great," remarks she, palming the marble, idily, and rolling it between her fingers, gingerly. "I'm stuck between a yuppie do-gooder, and a freakjob circus performing poet fanatic. Could my day -get- any better?" Hank frowns, "Sure your day could always get better. But I'm sorry that I have offended you." He gives Simone a look a sigh of frustration. "Be careful Simone and if you need help. I won't be far away." He gives Sasha a salute, "Well I give you ladies my leave as I did not come to visit to share infantile jabs with strange people. Especially when I have a new toy to play with." With that Hank bounces toward a fire escape. Simone shrugs. "Could it? Well that's likely up to you hon.. and the choices you decide to make.." she says with a grin but she eyes the marble. A strange thing for some one to have. People don't exactly play with them the way they used to. She reaches slowly into her shopping bag and pulls out a sketch book and what looks to be a new pen. She begins to write down the addresses of the shelters. "Thanks .." and she offers Hank an apologetic expression. Social skills don't seem to be Sasha's strong suit, unfortunately. She eyes Beast, measured, "Idiot," she remarks, as he leaves, "Someone's going to go decide to go hunting for a mutant pelt, one of these days he keeps going around and advertising," she predicts, but doesn't sound sorry for him in the least. Her eyes then shift towards Simone, as she continues to roll the marble about in her hand. Simone arches a brow at the girl and shrugs. "Why? because he'd rather not stand about and be insulted? Or because he's not afraid to be what he is? It isn't being an idiot, it's being brave. Besides if every mutant hides, it implys that they should, that there is something wrong.. Besides, he can take care of himself and avoid any trouble that decides to bother him." She then offers Sasha the paper with the addresses. "Here.. at least check out the shelter. If it's not your thing, then you can continue on as you are.. but if you find it isn't so bad, who knows.. you might discover there is more for you in life than what you can scrounge out here." Sasha rolls her eyes again, "Yeah, because there's nothing wrong with mutants," snaps Sasha. "That's why their parents treat them like they're crap, and why society spits on them. Right," she says, with the first genuine flicker of emotion in her tone, and in her eyes. And, it's not a positive one. "Whatever." she snatches the list of shelters, and stuffs it in her pocket, the same that she stuck the cash into. Simone smirks. "I didn't say that people didn't think that there were.. never said that life was fair to them or anyone.." she states. "But if some one doesn't stand up, things will never change.." and with that she begins to move off. Lecturing the young woman won't help, Simone is just glad that she even took the paper. With luck the girl will actually check out the shelters and get off the streets. Sasha certainly is not going to say anything in rebuttal, less Simone waste more of her time. Still, seeing another - rather blatant mutant walking around the streets does have her a bit more surly, and reflective of things she'd rather keep deeper inside herself. She curses under her breath, and turns to head the opposite way of Simone. After Sasha goes to walk away and Hank slides down behind Simone, "I take it, She's the grumpy street mutant type." He says walking along with Simone, "So hows the shopping go?" He sighs, "And I've got to go back to the roof tops when we go to the open streets." Simone smiles as she runs back into Hank. "Ah.. hey.. We can take to the roof tops now if you want.." she says. She can follow him along the 'thieves highway' easily enough. "I don't know if she's gifted or not.. I suspect she probably is.. I still haven't run into many humans who don't freak out at least a little when they are confronted by someone different. " she replies back. "And the shopping has been fair." she grins. Hank doesn't know the thieves highway, but he does plenty good on his own. "The people at the Apple Store are rather refreshingly accepting of mutants. As for the hotdog stand on 5th and Wall. Old Irving was rather nice after he stopped having a heart attack." He says with a smirk, "Good deal then." Simone arches a white brow. "Really? Mmm how cool." she says with a wide grin and starts towards a fire escape. "So what new toy did you get?" she asks of the blue fellow. "I got an Ipad. I want something that I could download books on in color. I wasn't impressed with my kindle. Besides I can transfer my music over to it." He looks over at Simone, "so how are you enjoying teaching at Xavier's?" He says bouncing off the side of the building and bouncing off a flag pole. Simone climbs up the last of the steps of the fire escape and onto the roof of the building. She pulls off her jacket and ties it about her waist. ".. it's.. challenging.." she says with a chuckle. "I thought maybe because of what the school was that the kids might be a little more enthusiastic..but it turns out school is still school to most of them." she says as she summons her psi wings. Hank laughs "What? Simone, you can't be that old? You can't remember how it was like being a student. You know the annoying teachers making you do homework. I must say Xavier's Angel 2.0 is quite an improvement over last years model." As Simone takes flight. Simone grins and chuckles as she floats over the expanses between the buildings. "A lady never tells her age.. but I actually liked school.. it was the other kids that were the problems.. and of course I loved my art classes." she giggles perhaps at his angel joke. Hank laughs as he comes down with a roll and land. "Course I loved my science classes, my math classes, My english lit class, my... Well I regress I probably shouldn't drone on like that." He says as he runs down the roof top with her. "But I did love to be a good prankster." Simone lands briefly on the next roof, like a butterfly going from flower to flower. "Oh my... I imagine that isn't something that you haven't grown out of, is it?" she grins. "Well the life gave us a hardship or so human's would have told us. So lets have as much fun as we can." He says running on all four. "So why should I grow out of it. Besides the look on Scott's face when I drive him crazy from me pulling a prank is worth it." Then he grins, "Now don't tell the students. They can't know their science teacher pulls pranks."